Sam regards me coolly. ‘You know, you should be writing all of this down in your anger journal?’ She nods at the notebook, still sitting forlornly on the table. ‘You’re clearly… er, triggered. Make a note of it.’
‘I’m not triggered, I’m just truly pissed off.’ I snap. ‘So yeah, sure, I’ll just note down how livid I am that Justin has already moved on with a better version of me. I’m sure Edward will find that really healthy and normal. And actually, you know what?’ I wave my hands maniacally. ‘I’m not angry actually, forget what I said, Sam. I’mhappyfor Justin. I mean, good for him, y’know? Howwonderfulfor him that he’s met someone so great and perfect.’ I glare down at my phone, still open on his Instagram page. ‘GOOD FOR YOU, JUSTIN, YOU UTTER SHITHEAD.’
Sam peers at me with a hint of disapproval. ‘You know, if talking about all of this is too close to home with Edward – if that’s the issue – you could always change therapists. Arshiya is brilliant! She—’
‘She’s a grief counsellor,’ I interrupt. ‘And my friend – that would be weird. It’s not that Edward is the problem exactly. It’s speaking to a peer at all. I’m a therapist, too! It’s so patronising to be told what to do and how to deal with things by someone I consider an equal. Someone whousedto see me as an equal! I know everything he’s going to say to me anyway. I don’t have anything to work on.’
‘Liv,everyonedoes,’ she says gently, reaching for the notebook and handing it over pointedly. ‘Stop taking your rage out on me and write it all down.’
I glare at her as she stands up, ready to go. ‘I love you,’ I tell her sharply.
‘Whatever,’ she says, smiling. ‘Write it down.’
CHAPTER ELEVEN
‘You guys!’ I stand up on my tiptoes, yelling and waving. ‘Over here! This way!’
The music is pumping drum and bass all around me in the darkness, but after I scream again, Jools and Andi finally spot me.
I was going to meet my make-up pals fromMorning Teain a normal pub, but it turns out Friday evenings in central London are quite busy – who would’ve guessed? So, we’ve ended up in a cheesy club at 6pm, purely because it was the only place with empty seats. Yes, we have to put up with loud music and semi darkness, but at least no one else will be in here, jostling for seats, for at least another six or seven hours.
I hug Jools, then Andi, turning to wave towards Sam, who is sitting patiently in the booth.
‘Andi, Jools, this is my flatmate, Sam.’
They greet her enthusiastically, taking their seats as Samturns to look directly at me, accusatorily. ‘Flatmate?’ She blinks, mock offended. ‘Is that all I get after all these years? Not “lifelong best friend since week two of nursery school”?’
I cock my head. ‘To be fair, we weren’t actuallyfriendsat nursery. Enemies would better describe it.’ I turn back towards Jools and Andi. ‘Every day at pick up, the nursery staff would fill my grandma in on the latest saga in our bitter feud.’
‘Liv kept trying to hug me,’ Sam says solemnly. ‘And even at two years old, I knew my boundaries around personal space and physical affection.’
‘You could’ve said no instead of repeatedly biting me,’ I reply haughtily. ‘I still have teeth marks on my shoulder.’
‘Other friends have blood oaths or matching tattoos,’ Sam says, shrugging. ‘We have incisor branding.’
Andi and Jools look amused as I roll my eyes in their direction. ‘So, okay, fine, Andi, Jools, apologies, this is mybest friend of many decades, Samira.’
Sam reaches out a friendly hand to shake each of theirs. ‘Hiya! Yeah, I’mherbest friend, but she’s not mine. She’s top five on a good day.’
‘You two are hilarious,’ Andi says in her strong Texan accent. ‘Can I get you a cocktail? I think the sign over there said it’s two for twenty pounds at this hour.’ She shakes her head. ‘Y’know, when literally no one else is in here.’
Jools and I pick out the sweetest, most repulsive looking drink on the menu, while Sam selects a mojito inspired mocktail. She does drink on occasion, but not often. She tried binge-drinking regularly for a bit when we wereteenagers, but she didn’t like it. She’s been on and off sober ever since – and not a bit less fun because of it.
Sam joins Andi at the bar to help her order and carry drinks, as Jools scoots closer.
‘Are you doing okay, sweetheart?’ she says with concern, peering at me over her sparkly Eltons. ‘I’ve been so worried about you, going through all this rubbish. I can’t believe Spencer’s got rid of you, what a little arse. Next time his CEO daddy’s in the studio, I’m going to tell on him. His dad always fancied me a bit, he’d listen to me.’
‘Snitches get stitches, Jools,’ I tell her sincerely, and she laughs.
‘Never understood that one,’ she replies thoughtfully. ‘It seems more like you’re promising the rat that he’ll get medical attention should anything happen to him. Like, if you snitch, I’ll make sure you’re cared for by a doctor who’ll stitch you back up. It’s a bit kind, if anything.’
‘In that case, snitches get no stitches, Jools,’ I tell her. ‘Snitches get left to bleed out.’
‘That’s better,’ she says cheerfully, running a hand through her short grey hair. ‘Much appreciated.’
‘And Spencer hasn’t actually got rid of me,’ I add quickly. ‘I’m just on leave while they make me have stupid bloody therapy.’ I pause and smile gratefully at her. ‘Thanks for all the messages, by the way. Sorry it took me so long to reply. I’ve been avoiding my phone a lot since… the videos.’
‘You poor thing,’ she clucks. ‘It’s just horrible. They’re like fleas, the way they keep popping up with catchy new remixesand parody recreations.’ She gives me a repentant look. ‘I still feel terrible about that morning – the day it went viral – when you came into the studio beauty room. I should’ve said something right then and there. I’m sorry. I didn’t think there was a chance in hell you’d be coming in, and then I just… panicked, I suppose. It doesn’t happen much at my age anymore; I usually know the right thing to do.’
